Five days later, Craftsmen's Camp.
The fire was burning brighter than usual, but there was an empty seat next to the anvil - that was the place where Zhou Cang usually stood. The atmosphere in the camp was a bit dull, and the old craftsmen hammered the iron blanks at a slower pace than usual. From time to time, people passed by and glanced at the newly made wooden wheelchair in the corner of the camp.
The wheelchair is made by Zhou Nan.
The boy didn't leave. Ever since that day when Qin Tiexin carried him back from the pile of dead people and saw Zhou Cang break his leg to protect him, he knew that he owed his life. The day Qin Tiexin went on a mission with Team A, he took the initiative to stay, brought water and meals, wiped himself and changed dressings, and slept on the carpet next to Zhou Cang's bunk at night, as alert as a puppy.
At this moment, Zhou Nan is squatting by the stove adding coal, moving skillfully. He is not tall, and his cheeks are still a little green, but his eyes are quiet, and his hands have calluses that do not match his age - they are the result of holding planes and saws all year round.
"Boy, that's not how coal is added." An old voice came from the wheelchair.
Zhou Nan paused and looked up at Zhou Cang. The old blacksmith was sitting in a wheelchair, his legs covered with thick felt, and his face was still a little pale, but his eyes had returned to their usual sharpness and he was staring at the fire.
"Be even, be slow. Fire has a temper. If it's hot, the iron will be brittle; if it's slow, the iron will be stiff." Zhou Cang's voice was hoarse, but with unquestionable certainty, "Look at the tongue of fire, is it leaning to the left?"
Zhou Nan Look carefully, and sure enough.
"That's because the air outlet is not adjusted properly." Zhou Cang raised his hand and pointed at the air box, "Go and knock the wedge on the lower left half an inch inward."
Zhou Nan stood up in response, found a small hammer, and followed suit. After a while, Furnace Fire's tongue returned to its straight position, and the sound burned more steadily.
"How did you know?" Zhou Nan couldn't help but ask.
Zhou Cang didn't answer, just looked at the fire, and then said after a while, "I learned blacksmithing from my father when I was eight years old. I didn't touch a hammer in the first year. I just did three things: watching the fire, blowing the bellows, and listening to the sound." He paused and said, "Is your father a carpenter?"
"Yes." Zhou Nan lowered his head, "I have made horses, ladders, and... coffins for Guanli."
"Carpenters and blacksmiths have the same principles." Zhou Cang said, "Both need to understand the nature of wood. Wood has grains, and iron also has grains. If the grains are straight, the thing will be strong; if the grains are reversed, it will break when the force is applied." He looked at Zhou Nan, "Your father taught you to recognize wood grains, right?"
"Taught me." A glimmer of light flashed in Zhou Nan's eyes, "He said that a good carpenter should look at wood as he looks at people, know its length and weakness, and use his instinct."
Zhou Cang rarely showed a smile, "That's the truth."
Just as he was talking, Qin Tiexin walked in.
He had just come back from school, wearing only a thin, coarse short-brown cloth. The cloth was soaked with sweat and clung to his knotted muscles. He was holding the dull Edgeless in his left hand and a cloth bag in his right hand - the lunch he had just brought from Huotou Camp.
"Teacher." Qin Tiexin nodded towards Zhou Cang, then looked at Zhou Nan, "Have you eaten?"
Zhou Nan stood up hurriedly. "Big Brother Qin, I've eaten. Just take a rest and I'll get you some water."
Qin Tiexin was not polite, he put Edgeless down against the wall, and put the cloth bag on the table and opened it. Inside were six fist-sized black noodle buns and two large bowls of stew, with a thick layer of oil and meat floating in the vegetables. He pulled up a stool and sat down, burying his head in eating.
Several old craftsmen who came to visit Zhou Cang quietly exchanged glances.
They had all heard that this boy was very strong and had a terrifying appetite, but they secretly smacked their lips when they saw it with their own eyes. Of the six steamed buns, an ordinary strong man would be full after eating two, but he actually took one bite of each, chewing quickly without appearing rude, just focused, as if eating was something that needed to be taken seriously. He picked up the two large bowls of food, barely raising his head, and only heard the regular collision of chopsticks with the rim of the bowl, and it was all gone after a while.
After eating, he turned to Zhou Cang: "The military doctor said you can return to the camp, but your legs can't bear any force. Clerk Wang is correct. I will be responsible for Craftsmen's Camp's work for the time being."
The words were spoken calmly, but they made the camp quiet.
Several old craftsmen looked at each other with different expressions. Zhou Cang is Craftsmen's Camp, an old man of thirty years, whose craftsmanship and prestige are unparalleled. He was suddenly seriously injured, and the people in the camp were already upset. Now a young boy under twenty is in charge. No matter how strong he is and how impressive his military exploits are, blacksmithing is a craft after all, and strength alone is not enough.
An old craftsman with a gray beard coughed. "Tiexin, it's not that Old Liu doesn't believe you. It's just that this work of Craftsmen's Camp is related to the lives of the frontline soldiers. Whether the armor is strong and whether the sword is sharp is a life. You are young and brave on the battlefield. Everyone admires you, but this blacksmith job..."
He didn't finish what he said, but the meaning was clear.
Qin Tiexin didn't defend himself, but just nodded. "That's what Master Liu said." He turned around and walked to the empty anvil, glancing at the several pieces of pig iron piled next to it, "What are you going to hit today?"
"Cavalry spearheads, thirty for each person." Another craftsman said, "I just received the materials yesterday and are about to start shooting."
Qin Tiexin stopped talking, stretched out his hand to pick out a few pieces of coal from the charcoal pile, and added it to the furnace. He didn't let Zhou Nan help, and leaned over to pull up the bellows. His action of pulling up the bellows was different from others - others They were all standing, bending their backs, pushing and pulling; but he was in a horse stance, with his back as straight as a spear, and every push and pull of his arms moved the muscles and bones of his whole body, and the bellows made a steady and powerful "hu-hu--" sound, and the fire rose with this rhythm.
In just a moment, the iron embryo in the furnace was burning red.
Qin Tiexin clamped out the iron blank with long pliers and placed it on the anvil. He held the pliers in his left hand and took out the heavy hammer belonging to Zhou Cang from the stand with his right hand - the hammer head was one circle larger than the ordinary craftsman's hammer, and the handle of the hammer had been worn with dark patina due to years of holding.
He raised the hammer.
Everyone in the camp stopped what they were doing and looked at him.
Hammer down.
"Clang--!"
There was a loud noise that made people's eardrums numb. It was not the crisp sound of an ordinary blacksmith's hammering, but a heavy, thick, muffled sound that seemed to be smashed into the ground. The wooden base under the anvil trembled slightly.
Sparks splashed like rain.
Qin Tiexin did not move at all, only staring at the iron embryo. When the first hammer hit, he paused for a moment, as if feeling the feedback from the iron embryo, and then the second hammer followed, followed by the third hammer, the fourth hammer... The hammers fell like rain, but each hammer landed where it should. The strength and angle of each hammer seemed to be slightly adjusted.
The iron embryo quickly deformed and expanded under his hammer, changing from a rough block to a flat spear prototype. What's even more shocking is that he did not repeatedly heat it in the furnace like other craftsmen - in ordinary ironmaking, a piece of iron embryo needs to be red-heated seven or eight times before it can be formed, but Qin Tiexin only used less than twenty hammers from pinching out the iron embryo to initially forging the spear shape, and the iron embryo still maintained a malleable temperature until the end!
"This..." Old Liu opened his mouth but said nothing.
They are all old craftsmen, so they can naturally tell. The iron embryo dissipates heat very quickly, and the fact that it can complete the initial shaping in such a short time shows two things: first, the hammering efficiency is extremely high, and each hammer fully deforms the internal structure of the iron embryo; second, the control of the heat is to the extreme, and the temperature is the most suitable for forging when it is clamped out.
Qin Tiexin immersed the preliminarily formed spearhead in the sink, and heard white steam steaming out. Then he raised his head and looked at Old Liu: "Master Liu, do you think this is okay?"
Old Liu walked to the sink, took out the spear head and took a closer look. The spear head was basically formed. Although the surface was still rough, it was well-proportioned, the thickness was appropriate, and the most important thing was that there were no cracks. He touched the edge with his hand, weighed it again, and after a long while he sighed, "Young people are scary."
Qin Tiexin shook his head. "The teacher taught me well."
Zhou Cang was sitting in a wheelchair, not speaking, but there was light in his eyes.
The atmosphere in the camp became more relaxed. Qin Tiexin did not take credit, but instead brought Zhou Cang. This made the old craftsmen feel comfortable. More importantly, the real forging skills could not be faked.
In the next few days, Qin Tiexin took over the work of Craftsmen's Camp in this silent way. He didn't say much, but he took over the heaviest work - making armor plates, forging spearheads, and repairing heavy knives. He did all these labor-intensive tasks. He was always the last one to eat three meals a day, and he ate the most, and continued working after eating.
But he didn't just work hard.
After several bloody battles, he gradually had an idea in his mind.
That afternoon, Craftsmen's Camp was rushing to make a batch of arrowheads. Qin Tiexin had just finished forging the last spearhead, soaked it in water, wiped his sweat and walked to Zhou Cang's wheelchair and squatted down.
"Teacher, I have an idea." he said.
"Say."
"In the past few days, I have fought against Di People several times, and I have heard a lot from my colleagues." Qin Tiexin's voice was not high-pitched, but very clear. "Di People is good at riding and shooting, and his horse skills are very good. We Great Xuan have more infantry and less cavalry. We always suffer losses when facing each other on the plains. We were attacked a few days ago, and if we could win, we would first find a way to cripple their horses."
Zhou Cang nodded. "When the horse falls, half of the rider is dead."
"Yes." Qin Tiexin picked up a piece of charcoal from the ground and drew it on the dirt. "I was wondering if I could make a weapon specially designed to deal with horse legs. A long pole with a hook blade on the front, like... like a sickle for cutting wheat, but bigger and heavier."
He drew a rough figure: a long pole with a curved hook blade at the top.
A young craftsman who was sharpening arrowheads next to him glanced at it and couldn't help laughing, "Brother Tiexin, what you are drawing... are you going to cut grass or fight? Di People's war horse is armored and rushes up like a wall. Use this thing to hook the horse's leg? I'm afraid if you don't hook it, the person will be knocked away first."
Several craftsmen also looked over and shook their heads.
"The idea is good, but it's not practical."
"A horse's legs are so thick and covered with armor. Can they be cut off with a sickle?"
"Even if it is cut off, the horse's forward momentum will not pull the pole away?"
There were many talks, mostly doubts.
Qin Tiexin didn't argue. He stood up, walked to the scrap pile, rummaged around for a while, and picked out a piece of scrap iron as big as a palm. He then went outside the camp to find a hardwood pole that was as thick as an arm and about ten feet long.
He threw the iron into the furnace and turned on the bellows. When the iron was hot, he took it out, placed it on the anvil, and lifted the hammer.
This time he struck very quickly. With only a dozen hammers, the piece of iron was forged into a crescent-shaped curved blade, leaving a tenon at one end. He used a chisel to drill a few holes at the tenon, then picked up a wooden pole and used a machete to thin one end just enough to fit into the tenon. Finally, he found a few iron nails from the tool box, passed them through the tenon holes, and nailed them into the wooden pole to secure the curved blade firmly.
A simple long-handled sickle is enough.
Everyone in the camp gathered around to look at it, with different expressions. The weapon looked rough, the curved blade didn't even have an edge, it was just a black piece of iron.
Qin Tiexin carried this "sickle" and walked to the open space outside the camp. There were some scrap wood piled there, including a bowl-sized hardwood stake, which was used to test the strength of the weapon.
He stood still, holding the pole with both hands and dragging the sickle by his side.
There was no momentum, no shouting.
He just took half a step forward, twisted his waist, used his arms to drive the long pole, and swung the curved blade diagonally from bottom to top!
The movement is not fast, even a little clumsy, like a farmer cutting grass with a sickle.
But the next moment--
"Crack!!!"
There was a crisp sound, and the wooden stake as thick as a bowl broke at the sound! The wood stubble at the break was rugged, and it was torn apart by Great Strength!
There was dead silence in the camp.
Everyone stared with wide eyes, looking at the fallen wooden stake, and then at the simple sickle in Qin Tiexin's hand. The curved blade was not sharp, and it was purely relying on the power and angle of the swing to "hook" the wooden stakes.
If it's a horse's leg...
Everyone thought of that scene in unison, and a chill ran down their spines.
Qin Tiexin put down the scythe and looked at the young craftsman who was laughing just now, "When a horse rushes over, you can't stand and wait. You must cooperate with the horse to resist the horse and ditch it to delay its momentum. When the horse slows down, or when it jumps over an obstacle and lands on the ground, the legs are strong, which is the best time to make a move." He paused, "With this weapon, you don't need to chop, but use hooks, pulls, and cuts. The horse's legs are armored, but there are always gaps in the joints, and the hoof wrists are even weaker."
He spoke calmly, but everyone gradually came back to their senses.
"That... makes sense!" An old craftsman clapped his leg, "The cavalry is most afraid of being slowed down when charging into battle! Once it slows down, we pikemen can charge forward!"
"This weapon is simple to make and saves on materials! It's just a long pole with a curved blade!"
"If ordinary soldiers could use it..."
"Ordinary soldiers can't do it." Qin Tiexin shook his head and said realistically, "I just used seven points of my strength. If you want to break a horse's leg with one blow, ordinary soldiers are not strong enough. They must at least be elites in the army and need to be trained."
His words made everyone calm down, but the light in their eyes did not go out. They understood things on the battlefield. A new weapon does not require all soldiers to be able to use it. As long as a group of elites can use it and tear holes at key points, it is enough to change the situation of the local battle.
"Big Brother Qin!" Zhou Nan suddenly spoke. He came to the sickle at some point and was squatting down to carefully look at the tenon joint. "The connection between the wooden pole and the iron blade can be reinforced. My father used to make long-handled agricultural tools and said that the straight tenon is easy to loosen. If it is changed to a dovetail tenon and tightened with an iron hoop, it will be more secure."
Qin Tiexin looked at him. "Can you do it?"
Zhou Nan nodded vigorously. "I'll try!"
Zhou Cang has been watching quietly, and then slowly spoke, "Boy, come here."
Zhou Nan stood up and walked to the wheelchair.
Zhou Cang looked at him. The boy was not tall, but had a well-proportioned frame, broad palms, and clear knuckles—hands suitable for holding a hammer.
"Reach out." Zhou Cang said.
Zhou Nan stretched out his hand. Zhou Cang held his wrist with his remaining right hand, pinched the joints, and asked him to make a fist, feeling the calluses and strength in his palm.
"Your father is a carpenter. You have touched tools since you were a child, and your hands feel better than others." Zhou Cang let go of his hand and looked at him, "Blacksmiths and carpenters both rely on their hands to make a living. You must have strong hands, and you must be able to 'hear' and understand the strength." He pointed to his ears, "When you strike the iron, the sound can speak. When you hammer it down, the sound is 'clang', 'bang' or 'buzz', telling you whether the iron is raw or cooked, soft or hard. What did you hear when you heard Tiexin striking iron just now?"
Zhou Nan thought about it seriously, "Big Brother Qin When striking iron, the sound... is very deep and solid. It is not as crisp as others, like a hammer hitting the iron instead of hitting the surface."
Zhou Cang's eyes flashed with approval. "You have a good ear." He paused and his voice deepened, "Boy, let me ask you, are you willing to learn blacksmithing?"
Zhou Nan was stunned for a moment, then suddenly knelt down. "Yes! I am willing!"
"Get up." Zhou Cang raised his hand, "My legs are broken and my hands are shaking. I won't be able to swing a heavy hammer in the future. But the craft of blacksmithing is not only a job on the hands, but also a job in the eyes and in the heart. Live." He looked at the fire and then at Qin Tiexin, "From today on, you follow me and learn to read fire, identify patterns, and listen to sounds. Let Tiexin teach you the skills on your hands."
He looked at Qin Tiexin: "Tiexin, I leave this child to you. Let him watch you while you are forging. If there is any rough work, just let him do it."
Qin Tiexin nodded heavily. "Okay."
Zhou Nan's eyes were red and he was about to kneel down and kowtow. Qin Tiexin held him up and said, "Craftsmen's Camp is not interested in this. From now on, just call me Brother Qin."
"Yes, Brother Qin!"
From that day on, there was a diligent figure in Craftsmen's Camp. Zhou Nan worked with Qin Tiexin during the day, pulling the bellows, delivering tools, and cleaning up waste. At night, he stayed at Zhou Cang was sitting next to the wheelchair, listening to him talk about the secrets of iron properties, heat, and quenching. When Qin Tiexin was forging iron, he watched carefully from the side, watching how Qin Tiexin moved the force, how to drop the hammer, and how to judge from the sound of the iron embryo whether the next step should be light or heavy.
As for Qin Tiexin, in addition to daily operations and taking care of Zhou Cang, he also thinks about the improvements of "Horse-Cutting Sickle" whenever he has free time.
He found that Zhou Nan was right. The connection method of dovetail tenon and iron hoop was indeed stronger. The two experimented several times together and finally settled on a plan: the tenon of the curved blade was made into a trapezoid shape, and the corresponding trapezoidal groove was cut out on the top of the wooden pole. After inserting it, it was put on with a red-hot iron hoop and hammered tightly. After cooling, it would bite tightly and would never come loose.
But the problem still exists - it's too heavy.
Qin Tiexin used it by himself, and Tu Dazhu tried it and could swing it, but it was a bit difficult for other elite soldiers. On the battlefield, if the weapon is heavier, the swing will be slower for a moment, which is fatal.
"We need to lose weight." Qin Tiexin said to Zhou Nan, "Can the curved blade be made thinner? Or change its shape?"
Zhou Nan squatted on the ground and drew a picture with a charcoal strip. "Brother Qin, my father said that wood should be used along the grain to be light and strong. Can the same be done with iron? You see, the places where the greatest force is exerted on this curved blade are the cutting edge and the joint. Can other places be hollowed out? Just like... like a window pane, leaving space but not reducing the force."
Qin Tiexin stared at the picture, his eyes slowly lit up.
But he was not in a hurry. Improving weapons does not happen overnight. It requires repeated trials, tests, and even verification on the battlefield. Right now, he has more important things - Team A's injury is almost healed, and a new mission will come at any time.
Outside the camp, the sky was getting dark. Qin Tiexin rolled up a few newly drawn sketches and put them into his arms. The fire reflected his calm face, and the Edgeless leaned against the wall quietly, as dark as the night.
He remembered what Shi Meng said: The fastest knife is the knife of the brother next to you.
Now, he not only has a knife, but also a hammer, a new weapon that is about to be born, and people who need to be protected.